Beware Of Bad Blood
by Queen Of Dead Hearts
Summary: Sequel to "Beware Of Vampire." Because most dead things don't stay dead.
1. It's Melodramatic But It Turns Me On

**It's Melodramatic But It Turns Me On**

"Now tell me what's going on with you Lottie."

I was sitting in my boss Jessamine's office. She was seated at her desk with _her _boss Cruz standing behind her, a hand on her shoulder. I was slumped in my seat across from them, feeling like a kid at school getting a scolding from the principle. I didn't know why I'd been summoned here but I still had a bad feeling about it.

"What'd you mean?" I asked.  
"You've gone slack lately," she told me, "What's going on?"

"I-I don't know . . . Fighting - I'm just not good at it anymore. I don't know what's wrong with me," I said, feeling genuinely lost and confused.  
"You know what I think the problem is?" Cruz jumped in, "You're not fearless anymore."

"Fearless?" I repeated.  
"You used to think you were invincible," he elaborated, "But now . . . after what happened with Alonzo and Julie Marie . . . you're _afraid. _You're afraid of fighting because you think that you are going to die again. Even if you don't realize it."

Oh I realized it. It was my new thing. Being terrified of dying, not because I don't know what awaits me. But because I _do _know. I'm afraid of that 'so called' heaven that was more like hell for me. But I hadn't realized that it was what was affecting my fighting.

"I don't want to die," I mumbled, explaining my fear.  
"We understand Lottie," Jessamine said kindly, "And we want to help you. But we have a lot of problems treating vampires with mental illnesses."

I didn't really like her usage of the word 'mental illness.' I wasn't _that _bad, was I?

"Mental illnesses?" I repeated.  
"Don't worry Lottie," Cruz said, "You're not the only one we're concerned about."

"Ghost," I substituted, "Ghost was really messed up by everything that happened."  
"Yes we're worried about him too," Jessamine said, "However, in his case, the experience gave him even more of an edge. His abilities have been _inhanced. _I feel that what he went through with Julie Marie made him so angry that when he fights, he puts everything into it."

"It still affected him as much as it affected me," I muttered, "He has _such _low self esteem."  
"You're right," she said, "Which is why we want the both of you to speak with a therapist."

"A therapist? Seriously?" I demanded, "You do know that we'd have to kill them after we tell them all about vampires, right?"  
"There's a vampire therapist," Cruz said, "In Quebec."

"Why is everything in Canada . . ." I mumbled to myself.  
"The _point,_" said Jessamine, "Is that we want you and Ghost to speak with this woman. Hattie too maybe. . . Diego and Joseph seem alright for now."

"When?" I asked.  
"Next week," Cruz said.

"I'll go tell Ghost," I said, getting up, "He won't be happy."  
"We didn't think he would be," Jessamine said, "We'll tell Hattie ourselves that we recommend it for her. But we mandate it for you and Ghost. The two of you are some of our best and we need you mentally sound. Not to mention that we really do care about you."

"Thanks Jez, that means a lot to me," I told her truthfully even though the smile was fake.  
"We just want you to get better Lottie," Cruz said.

"Thanks," I mumbled, walking out the door. I headed back to Ghost's room, forcing niceties to the people I passed. I was just generally . . . not depressed but not really happy lately. Not doom and gloom. Just . . . my heart wasn't in anything that didn't have to do with Ghost. That sounds sappy but it was true.

When I got into his room, he was lying in his rumpled bed, reading a book with his headphones in. Just looking at him gave me a nice jolt of happiness in the usual melancholy I was experiencing. He was wearing a message tee with the words _Oh God It's Happening Again _under a zip up black hoodie. I was glad because it meant I didn't have to see his arms, or the scars that marred them. His black hair was arranged in it's perfectly straight manner, the bangs falling over his forehead. He looked up at me even though he had the volume on his IPod up full blast, his red eyes meeting mine. I had to hold back the dreamy sigh that threatened to escape my lips.

He's the love of my life, point blank. He's gorgeous and dark, witty always and sensitive when he wants to be. On a good day, he's an unstoppable force of nature. If he wants to be heard and seen, you'll know he's there. And when he wants to be invisible, he'll disappear into thin air. And even after everything he's been through, he does what makes him happy. And so far, the only known thing that makes him truly happy, is making me happy. And vice versa.

"Hey Char," he said, pulling the earbuds out of his ears, "Come to posion my precious alone time with your feminiscity?"  
He could go on and on about how he needed time away from me and my supposed 'girliness' but I knew that when he went a long time without seeing me, he started to lose it. I could relate.

"Actually I have news," I told him, going over and sitting down on the side of his bed. I smiled from the memory of _why_ his sheets were rumpled. We hadn't had sex yet but things were getting pretty heavy between us. We needed each other in every conceivable way.

"Good news or bad news?" he asked, putting his book down.  
"Depends . . ." I mumbled.

"Bad news," he decided, "People only say 'depends' if it's bad news."  
"Well . . . Jessamine wants us to go to Canada to see a vampire therapist," I told him.

"You gotta be kidding me," he said, sitting up and moving so that he was sitting on the side of the bed next to me.  
"Sadly no . . . She thinks I have an anxiety issues and that you have low self esteem," I said. Okay, so I was putting words in her mouth. Sue me.

"Well _duh_," he said, "You died . . . _twice. _And my foster mother used to treat me like a sex toy so . . . what did they expect?"  
I was surprised that he actually said that out loud. Denial about _both _of those topics was common in him.

I shrugged. "I don't know . . ." I mumbled.  
"So where is this vamp shrink exactly?" he asked easily.

I was surprised by how accepting of this he was. "You're not upset?" I asked.  
He shrugged. "Not really . . . I've been to a therapist before. It's no big deal."

"You have?"  
"Yeah . . . JM - I mean Julie Marie took me to one once," he told me, attempting to sound casual, "When I was a kid."

"Oh . . . I guess not. But I'm not thrilled about it," I admitted.  
"It'll be fine," he assured me.

"If you say so . . ." I mumbled.  
"That is probably my favorite sentence ever," he said.

"You just like to think that you're in charge," I teased, turning so that i was facing him and bringing my face closer to his.  
"Aren't I?" he asked, closing the distance between our lips.

I moaned lowly, reveling in the entire experience of kissing him. The sweet taste of his lips and the warmth of his mouth. The way it felt to have his sharp teeth nibbling on my lower lip playfully.

I actually giggled when he grabbed my by the waist and pulled me down onto the bed with him. He rolled us over so that he was on top and I really didn't mind. He deserved to feel dominant sometimes after what he went through with Julie Marie.

I reached up and wrapped my arms around him, rubbing his back in a sort of unconscious gesture. He moaned as he ran his hands up and down the contours of my body. Frequent moans escaped my lips as well. Ghost was one hell of a good kisser.

He had his tongue in my mouth, grazing it against my teeth. I knew it was intentional when my top fang cut his tongue, causing him to bleed in my mouth. One drop of blood touched my tongue and my whole body was infected with hunger and lust.

But that had been his plan. He took tongue out of my mouth and put his arms on either side of me to prop himself up more. He smirked that devilish smirk down at me. I growled at him and reached up again to grab his hair and pull him back down on me.

"You're going to finish what you started Xander," I told him.

After what his crazy ass foster mother had done to him, I usually had to be careful about what I said and did around him. Ordering him around like that was okay as long as we were in a carefree sort of environment, or else he'd get all touchy. Calling him 'baby' was a no. Julie Marie had referred to him as her baby. And calling him a whore (even while joking) was out of the question.

"Make me Charlotte," he challenged seductivly.  
"Oh I will," I said, crushing my lips to his forcefully.

His lips moved against them in a rough, rhythmic motion while his hands grazed my body up and down. I was moaning in desire as he unzipped my sweatshirt and managed to take it off me without breaking the kiss. He had to separate his lips from mine to remove my shirt though, but once the shirt was off his lips reconnected with mine.

His hands were all over my torso, over my flat stomach and my not so flat chest. When his hands slipped under my back, going for my bra clasp, I stopped him.

"You first," I breathed.  
He rolled his eyes dramatically and sat up to remove his sweatshirt. I averted my eyes from his arms as he crisscrossed them to lift his t-shirt over his head. I forcefully shoved down the dreamy sigh that threatened to escape at the sight of him shirtless.

"Now you can," I said in a shaky voice.  
He grinned, flashing his fangs at me as he lowered himself back down on me. He undid my bra with vampire dexterity and tossed it aside.

"Jackpot," he said, ogling me.  
"Well," I said impatiently, "Aren't you going to come and collect your prize."

"You bet your shapely ass," he told me, pressing himself to me. He began to pepper my bare stomach with kisses, starting at my abdomen and working his way up to my breasts. He ran his tongue up my cleavage and I shuddered in desire. I was desperate for him to stop teasing me and just do what he was planning on doing. We'd gotten to second base already but I was just waiting for him to start sucking on them.

He didn't though. Because he saw me staring at his arms. I hadn't meant to. I'd caught a glimpse of arms and then I was trapped, staring at them in the same horrified way as always. By the time Angel had recovered enough to heal the wounds there, it had been too late. They'd already healed on their own (sort of) forming scars. The words _Julie Marie _would forever be carved into the inside of his arms.

He noticed my staring and was immediately put off by it of course.  
"Mood killer," he said plainly, pulling away from me and getting up so that he was sitting on the side of the bed.

I scrambled into a sitting position as well, so that I was next to him as he stared down at his scarred arms in annoyance.  
"Hey, come on," I urged, poking him in the side teasingly, "Don't you wanna play?"

"After seeing how my scars bother you?" he asked rhetorically, "No actually. I'm just not in the mood anymore."  
"Your scars don't bother me," I told him honestly, "They're apart of you. And I love _every _part of you."

He ignored my clever little innuendo there, and continued to let me know that he wasn't buying it by being silent.  
"Scars are hot," I said, pushing him back so that he was laying down across his bed backwards, his feet on his pillow.

I laid down on top of him, determined to convince him that his scars didn't bother me. Which they truly didn't. I'd been serious before when I'd told him I loved them because they were apart of him, no matter what they symbolized.

I grabbed his wrist and held out his arm so that I could kiss each of the letters carved into it.  
"Scars are sexy," I said as I moved onto the next arm.

"I love scars," I purred.  
"Okay, okay," he said finally, "I believe you."

I smiled. "Good . . . Maybe now we can finish what we started."  
"Maybe . . ." he said with a devilish smirk, rolling us over so that he was on top, staring into my eyes before looking down at my chest.

"Ghost! Lottie!" came an annoying voice. Well, the voice wasn't as annoying as what it represented. Us being interrupted. By Hattie . . . Who was probably spazzing over the whole therapy situation.

"Fabulous," I muttered, "Interupted, _again_."  
"Maybe this Canada thing won't be so bad," he said, caressing my face, "A little alone time would be nice."

I didn't have the heart to tell him then that we'd have a bit of a stowaway on this supposed romantic getaway.


	2. Highway To Hell

**On The Highway To Hell**

"Where are you going?"

I looked up from where I was packing things on bed, at my cousin Evie. She was my crazy cousin who was temporarily living with us while my grandmother, her legal guardian, was in Egypt. Everyone always considered her horribly confused and I had too, until recently when she'd been having some creepy insight. She'd figured out that I was a vampire and told me that her voices had told her to warn me.

"Camping with my friend Darcy for the weekend," I lied. That's what I'd told my parents.  
"No you're not," she detected the lie, "You hate camping now. Where are you really going?"

I sighed. "Okay Evie, I'll tell you, but you have to keep it a secret."  
"I can keep a secret," she said, holding a finger to her lips in a 'shhh' motion.

"Okay, I'm going to Canada with some . . . friends," I said.  
"Other vampires?" she asked.

It always freaked me out when she brought up vampires so casually. Her not being one and all.

"Uh yeah . . ." I mumbled, my eyes darting back down to my luggage.  
"Why?" she asked curiously, fixing the clips in her hair absently.

"I can't really tell you Evie," I sighed, "You wouldn't understand."  
"I'm not stupid you know," she snapped and I was taken back. Evie never snapped like that. She was either demonicallly crazy or happy-go-lucky crazy. She never really . . . acted like a real person. It sounds mean, but it's true. She never got angry or embarrassed or anything like that.

"I know that," I said immediatly, "I meant that it's . . . vampire stuff. It's hard for a human to understand."  
"Well okay," she said, switching back to innocent Evie, "It's strange that Aunt Karen and Uncle Robert are letting you go after what happened."

_What happened _was code among everyone I knew for when about a month ago, I'd gone missing for almost two weeks. I'd actually been abducted by evil vampires and tortured and killed and then ressuerected. It'd been a bitch to explain to my parents. Who, of course, had had a search for me going on. The cops had been involved and so had all my friends and neighbors. I'd had to make up this crazy story about getting kidnapped by some crazy guy. I'd used my writer skills to make up a bunch of convicing details. So nobody had blamed me for my dissapearence. But my parents had been a little over protective for a while and still were.

"I can take care of myself," I muttered, distracting myself by continuing to pack.  
"I know that," she said, "But they don't . . . You should tell them you know."

"Tell them what?" I asked, perfectly aware of what she meant.  
"That you're a vampire," she said easily with a shrug. "They should know."

"That wouldn't go over well," I mumbled.  
"I'm not _suggesting_," she hissed, "I'm _telling _you to tell them."

I looked up at her, startled. She was standing in front of my closed door, looking scarier then I was used to her looking. She was dressed in jeans and a wool grey sweater that was too big for her and hung off her thin wrists. Her dark hair fell all over the place in untamed curls and the barrets she had to keep it out of her eyes were coming loose. Her tanned face was expressionless but serious. What really scared me was her eyes, boring into me with a frightening intensity.

"Evie?" I asked warily.  
She suddenly snapped out of it, just like that. "Yeah?" she asked perkily.

"Are you feeling alright . . ." I asked cautiously.  
"Of course I am," she said breezily, "Why wouldn't I be? Oh, well, I gotta go Lottie. I have to go practice my pole dancing."

With that, she just skipped out of my room and closed my door behind her. Despite how freaky she'd been just two minutes ago, I began laughing uncontrollably. I fell off my bed I was laughing so hard. I was glad that Evie was back to her normal happy crazy self, even if that sounds mean, it's true. I liked her better when she was random and out of touch with reality.

Ghost suddenly appeared up against my door. He'd probably followed Evie in. I wasn't surprised. He was supposed to be picking me up now.  
"Why didn't you tell me your cousin was a stripper," he demanded, "That's vital information!"

Through my laughter I managed to say, "Oh shut up."  
"Hey, don't act like that's bad boyfriend behavior," he said, "I'm actually a great boyfriend. Ben and Joseph invited me to a strip club tonight and I said no."

"You're such a liar," I accused when my laughing died down, "You know you would've said yes if we didn't have to go to see a therapist today."  
"First off, I didn't lie. I told you that I said no, which I did. I didn't say _why_," he explained, "And secondly, that's a very hurtful things to say. Which is why I think I'll ask Ben to reschedule."

"You're such a pain," I informed him, zipping my suitcase closed.  
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he said dismissively, "Tell me something I don't know."

"My cousins a stripper," I said with a huge smile.  
He smirked back at me, "I already knew that." And then he vanished but I knew he was still in the room.

I grabbed my suitcase and put my sneakers on and went downstairs. I could feel Ghost's presence behind me as he followed me down the stairs and into the kitchen to say goodbye to my mom. I'd already said goodbye to my dad before he left for work.

"Bye mom," I said as I walked into the kitchen to find her reading a magazine at the table.  
She got up to hug me. "You'll be back Sunday night, right?" she checked.

"Yep," I said.  
"And you'll call me when you get there?"

"And before I go to sleep and when I wake up everyday," I recited, "Yeah I know. I will. I promise."  
"Okay, you be careful alright?" she told me, "Stay with Darcy."

"I will mom," I promised. I knew she was still nervous about what had happened last month but really. We'd been over this like eighteen times already.  
"Okay honey," she said, kissing me on the forehead, "I love you. I'll see you on Sunday."

"Love you too mom," I said, hiding my discontempt at Ghost listening to this. I headed for the door and felt him follow me out. His car wasn't outside for obvious reasons. I'd told him to park down the road so my mom wouldn't see by accident.

Once I was out of sight from the house, Ghost appeared. I expected him to hassal me about me 'saying goodbye to my mommy' but he didn't. I guess I should've given him more credit then that. Him of all people would not make fun of someone loving their mother.

"To Canada, we go," he said in a teasing voice as we approached his sleek black car.  
"To Canada," I echoed with less enthusiasm, since I'd been reminded of Julie Marie and the reason for this trip.

Ghost took my luggage and put it in the trunk while I got in the passenger seat.  
"Excited?" came Hattie's voice from the backseat as her head poked forward next to me, "I am. Canadians are hot."

I rolled my eyes. "Because we have such a shortage of hot guys here . . ." I muttered.  
Seriously, vampire guys? Way too fucking hot for their own good. Or mine.

"Excuse me?" Ghost demanded as he got in the car, "Did I hear that you want more hot guys? What? Am I not good enough for you anymore?"  
"I was being sarcastic," I said with an eye roll as he started the car.

"And I wasn't?" he asked.  
"You're lucky you're cute," I mumbled, giving him a glare.

"No . . ._you'_re lucky that _I'm _stunningly sexy," he corrected.  
"Please don't be all . . . couply five seconds into the trip," Hattie begged.

"She's right," Ghost said, "We have seven hours to occupy with lovey-dovey banter, don't we Lottie?"  
I groaned. _Seven hours. _Seven!

"Oh come on Lottie," Hattie coaxed, "Road trips are fun."  
"If I remember you weren't too excited about going to the shrink either last week," I reminded her.

"That was before I found out we got to stay at a super awesome hotel," she explained, "With like free _everything. _And an indoor pool."  
"Well in that case," I said sarcastically, "Spilling my guts to a total stranger is totally worth it."

"I told you," Ghost said, seeming exasperated, "It isn't that bad."  
"Hey know what I just realized Ghost?" Hattie asked, "This time when the therapist shows you the inkblots and asks you what you see you'll have a better response then 'nothing.'"

"Hattie!" I rebuked.  
"Yeah well I'm not bitter and alone," he snapped, "Unlike someone. So yeah, suck it."

"No thanks," she said, "But maybe later."  
"Hey," I teased, "That's my job."

"Oh right," she said, "My bad."  
"This is going to be one fucking long ride," Ghost muttered.

Fuck yeah it would.


	3. We Don't Stop 'Til Someone's Bleeding

**MY BAD! **

**So okay, I wrote this chapter and most of you read it and whatever. But then I somehow replaced it with a different chapter by accident and DELETED my copy of it. So, until I find the time/will to rewrite it . . . Here's the gist for those of you who haven't read it yet:**

**They're in the hotel room and Hattie and Ghost get into a fight. Ghost knows that Hattie's been raped and she accuses Lottie of telling him. Ghost gets mad at Hattie for threatening Lottie. Hattie and Ghost start insulting each other and they both start getting really pissed. So they both start saying very hurtful and personal things. Example: Ghost calls Hattie a bitter harpy and Hattie calls Ghost a whore. See? Quite hurtful.**

**So eventually Lottie tries to break it up. And then, still pissed, to stay out of it unless she "wants to go back to being dead." Lottie, oversentsitivly, starts crying. Ghost comforts her and yells at Hattie for upsetting her. Hattie is regretful and swears that she didn't really mean it. **

**Basically, in the end they all realize they really do need therapy.**

**Again, I'm SOOOO sorry for this mixup. And super pissed myself. Now I got rewrite the whole damn thing. And I don't have the attetion span for that. I'll do it eventually . . . maybe.**


	4. I'd Give Up Everything

**I'd Give Up Everything If Only For Your Good**

"Dr. Valley will see you now," said the receptionist who was _so _obviously a vampire.

After the little incident back at the hotel room, we'd drove to the therapist's office in a highly awkward silence. When we'd arrived we'd been told to wait in the well, waiting room. That particular awkward silence lasted for exactly ten minutes and forty eight seconds. Until the receptionist saved us all.

We all literally sprung up at the same time, grateful for the end to the silence.  
"Great," I said, with a surprising lack of sarcasm. I actually was glad. During those awful awkward silences I'd done a lot of thinking and I'd come to a conclusion. We really did need help.

"Fant_as_tic," Ghost hissed, sarcasm dripping off of every syllable.  
"Let's get this circus on the road," Hattie said.

The woman nodded and led us to door with a gold plague next to it reading _"Dr. Mildred Margaret Fisher Valley."  
_"That's a mouthful . . ." I mumbled as the receptionist opened the door for us.

"That's what she said . . ." Ghost muttered, smirking as he strode past me into the office.  
"Well she was lying," Hattie giggled as she followed him in.

I sighed gratefully. They were back to normal.

I followed them in. The office was nice and spacious. There were potted plants in the corners and paintings on the wall. A large ornate, red rug decorated the dark, polished hard wood floors. For seating there were two leather arm chairs and one leather couch that looked _just _like the ones in therapist office's in movies. There was a large mahogany desk across the room with a black leather chair behind it. Sitting in it was a woman.

She was obviously a vampire. If the purple irises didn't give it away, then the unnatural pale beauty did. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties when she was changed, and had short black hair that cut off severly at her chin. She was dressed in a formal power suit.

"Hello children," she said melodically, her hands clasped on the desk in front of her, "Take a seat."  
"I get the couch!" Hattie said, jumping onto the leather couch and making herself comfy.

Ghost and I silent sat down in the armchairs. I noticed Ghost studying the collection of degrees that hung on the wall behind the desk. I also noticed Dr. Valley studying us. Much more intently then a normal person, I might add.

"We gonna get started?" Hattie asked impatiently.  
Dr. Valley's eyes zoned in on her. "You must be Hattie," she guessed.

"What was your first clue?" she asked sarcastically.  
"Your impatience and frank disregard for manners," she said calmly without any malice.

"Sounds about right to me," Ghost muttered.  
Dr. Valley's eyes moved to him. "And obviously you're Xander," she said.

"It's Ghost, actually," he informed her.  
"Interesting," she said.

Her eyes finally moved on to me. She studied me briefly and then offered a small smile that I didn't return.  
"And you must be Charlotte," she assumed.

I nodded. "You can just call me Lottie."  
She nodded in return. "I'm Dr. Valley," she said to everyone, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about you three."

"I'm sure you have," Hattie muttered. I could tell by her tone and challenging expression that she was still miffed about the Doctor's earlier analysis of her.  
I assumed that Dr. Valley picked up on Hattie's annoyance, but she didn't acknowledge it.

"I'm going to cut down to the chase children," she said, "For our first session I would like to have a group therapy atmosphere between the three of you."  
The three of us all looked at each other. I knew we were all thinking the same thing. _"I am _not _talking about my problems in front of these people."_

"Why?" Ghost demanded.  
"Let's just say that some associates of mine overheard you're little spat back at the hotel," she said.

"You had people spying on us?" I realized.  
She didn't act guilty or reproachful. "I had to get a sense of the way you all interacted," she said simply, "T'was merely professional."

"Since when is it professional to spy on people?" Hattie growled.  
"You need to learn to get a hold on that temper," Dr. Valley said, "Something I've derived from what my associates have told me."

"Okay, so you heard us all fighting," Ghost said, "But why do we have to have group therapy because of it?"  
"Because I think it would be beneficial for all of you to understand how the other people are feeling. As to avoid preying upon their insecurities," she said.

"Can we just get this over with?" I sighed. I was sick of this meaningless argument.  
"Good idea. We'll start with you Lottie," she said bluntly, "I understand that you have a fear of death."

I squirmed uncomfortably. "Doesn't everybody?" I answered.  
"Don't avoid confronting the problem Lottie," she advised, "It's unhealthy. But allow me to edit that previous statement anyway. I understand that you have an _advanced _fear of death."

I shifted again. "Yeah . . . I do."  
"And why is that?" she asked.

My eyes met Ghost's briefly before I looked away quickly. "I died once . . . Twice actually. It was . . . really scary. The first time I was like in heaven or something. At first it was great, but then I was alone because," I chocked on the words, "- because Ghost left me."

"Ahh yes. You and Ghost are a couple I understand," she said and I noticed that she wasn't reading off of anything. Vampire memory.  
"Yeah," I said.

"And are you in love?" she asked bluntly.  
I was surprised by how upfront she was but I tried not to focus on it. "Uh yeah . . . yes we are."

"So allow me to make sure I have this right," she said, "You're biggest fear in life is to be without the man you love?"  
"Yes," I answered without meeting anybody's eyes.

"Sounds to me like you're demonstrating some of the signs of codependence," she decided.  
"You think I'm a codependent?" I exclaimed.

"I'm aware that it is unprofessional to come to an analysis so soon after meeting you," she said, "But I have been given extensive background information on all of you. I had some predetermined bias before even meeting you."

"What makes you think I'm a codependent?" I demanded, ignoring her.  
"Well, there are a few things. One of the biggest being how attached you are to your boyfriend. You feel that you cannot exist in a world without him, is that so?" she asked.

"It's called love," I hissed, getting angry, "Clearly you've never experienced it."  
She stayed completely neutral. "People lose loved ones all the time. They mourn and they move on. You seem incapable of even surviving without Ghost."

"That's the only reason you think I'm a codependent?" I demanded.  
"Of course not. That would be unprofessional. My records say that you're a very _selfless _person. You like to make others happy," she said. "Is this true?"

"Yeah. And that's a bad thing?"  
"No . . . But it is if you start putting other's needs before your own."

"And what makes you think that I do that?" I snapped.  
"My records contain reports that you highly revere your boyfriend, Ghost. So much that you 'would do anything to make him happy.' It seems that you often overlook his flaws and are constantly trying to 'fix' him," she continued.

"That's what love is. Overlooking someone's flaws and trying to make them a better person. Wanting to make them happy," I explained heatidly.  
"Do you agree with this statement? You are happiest when making him happy?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "Fully."  
"And you don't think that that's unhealthy?" she wondered, "That you live only to serve someone else?"

"I didn't say that I live to serve him," I protested.  
"If I recall, you said that you would 'do anything to make him happy.' Correct? That sounds a lot like servitude to me, doesn't it Charlotte?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not if both people feel the same way," I snapped.  
"A good argument," she allowed, "But my records also say that the object of your dependency, Ghost, is a bit of a narcissus. Although, my analysis of the data is that he actually suffers from low self esteem and uses fake arrogance to compensate for his lack of self worth and to keep people from taking advantage of him. But I'll get to that later. My point is that narcissists (or even those who appear to be narcissistic) are magnets to codependents, like yourself."

My eyes flashed to Ghost and Lottie. They'd both been silent throughout this, probably afraid that they'd make things worse. Ghost seemed distressed. His face showed that he was thinking deeply about something. Hattie just looked stunned.

"For the last time!" I shouted, standing up, "I am _not _codependent! I am _in love with Ghost_ which is why I want to make him happy. And I'm not codependent because he loves me too! Don't you Ghost?"

"Looking for validation of your own feelings?" she inquired, "Self doubt? Viewing other's opinions higher then your own? All signs of codependence my dear."  
"Okay that is enough!" I yelled, "I am not freaking codependent!"

"We'll get back to your denial issues in a bit Lottie," she said, "But for now I'd like to get started on Ghost."


	5. It's Getting Harder To Breathe

**The Currents Only Pulling Me Down; It's Getting Harder To Breathe**

"So Ghost . . . It's to my understand that you lived in a foster home for most of your life," she said.  
Ghost glared at her evenly and I crossed my arms in smug satisfaction. If she thought I was a stubborn head case, then she was in for a rude awakening.

"Yeah," he muttered, making it obvious he wasn't going to cooperate. He'd been willing enough to go along with therapy until he'd met this woman.  
"You were taken away from your parents by the state when you were a small child," she went on, "Care to elaborate."

I sat up straighter in my seat, intriqued.

"No," he growled, as stubborn as ever.  
"Alright," she said, "Would you rather talk about your low self esteem? Or your masochistic tendencies? Or perhaps your foster mother? No? Okay then."

I would've smacked that smug expression right off her face if it wasn't for the fact that I _really _did want to know why Ghost had been taken away from his parents.

"Fine," he said, his expression blank, "You all want to know so badly? Fine. My mother, she was crazy. I can remember her telling my father that there were dark things in her head, making her think bad thoughts. Sometimes she would cry and say that it was her fault that I was blind. That God had decided to punish her for being a bad person by punishing her son. I made my mother insane."

I stared at him in mortification, mesmerized by this tragedy.

"My father didn't want to accept that she was sick. He pretended that she was fine but he knew. One day in Febuary, my father went to work like he always did. My mother didn't have a job. She stayed at home with me and my sister," he went on, his eyes glassy, "And that day . . . I remember it started out as any other day. She'd made us breakfest and had been singing to herself. She seemed happier then usual I can remember. But then that afternoon, she took me out into our yard. We had a pond back there. She took me down to the water and-"

His voice broke and he took a deep breath as he closed his eyes.

"She tried to drown me," he managed, "All I remember is the water . . . It was so cold . . . It was filling my lungs and I - I couldn't breathe  
I stared at Ghost in horror. He was trembling slightly, but I could see that he was trying to get a hold on himself.

I saw Hattie staring at him with round eyes, looking just as mortified and shocked as I did. Dr. Valley was also staring . . . But not with disgust or sadness. With intrigue. Like this was just a good story, not someone's real life.

Ghost closed his eyes again and took another deep breath, collecting himself. "My father came home early. He'd forgotton some papers he need for a presentation," he said quietly, "He found my sister inside alone, crying. He'd gone outside to look for my mother and found her trying to drown me. He'd stopped her obviously. She didn't want to though, she just kept sobbing and wouldn't let me up to breathe . . . So my dad . . . he actually punched her in the face to stop her. He'd saved me. I don't remember any of that. I'd lost consciousness. J-Julie Marie told me."

"My father got charged with neglence for not getting my mother help when he knew she was a threat," he continued, "My mother got charged with attempted murder but didn't go to jail because she was deemed mentally ill. She spent some time in a mental institute and my dad went to jail for six months."

"I think I'm gonna cry," Hattie said when he didn't continue. I looked at her and saw that she was probably right. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. I felt some coming on myself but refused to let them spill over. I wasn't crying twice in one day, and defiantly not in front of Dr. Valley.

"And Ghost," she said, "When you think about all that . . . How do you feel? Angry? Depressed? Scared?"  
"Guilty," he said, his eyes on the floor, "Guilty that I made my mother crazy. That my being blind ruined her whole life. Landed her in a mental hospital on accounts of attempted murder. Guilty that my little sister never got to have a real childhood with her real parents because _I _drove our mother insane."

She nodded. "And what else?"

"Fragile," he said in an unstable voice, "If it wasn't for my dad forgetting some stupid papers, I would be dead."  
He put his face in his hands for a second and took a shaky breath. He lifted his head and ran a trembling hand through his hair. He was shaking while he tried to calm himself.

"Ghost do you-" Dr. Valley began.  
"Can you give him a second?" I snapped, "Can't you see your upsetting him?"

She leaned back in her seat. "My apologies. Take all the time you need."  
I gave her a sharp look before getting out of my seat and kneeling on the floor next to Ghost. I put a comforting hand on his knee and tried to meet his eyes.

I couldn't though. He was staring down at the floor while he tried to control himself. He was trembling like he was cold and he was taking very deep, deliberate breaths like he thought if he forget how to breath without thinking about it. He was tracing the scars on his arm with a shaking finger. They were covered by his sweatshirt sleeves but he obviously knew exactly where they were.

"Hey," I said in a gentle voice, still trying to meet his eyes, "You alright?"  
"I'm fine . . ." he mumbled, still not looking at me, "I just need a minute."

"How about you two go in the lobby and take a break," suggested Dr. Valley, "Hattie and I will stay in here and chat."  
The first suggestion of hers that didn't make me want to break something.

"Good idea," I said, getting up at the same time as Ghost. I wrapped an arm around his waist and held myself close to his side. He absentmindidly but a hand around my shoulders as we walked towards the door. I looked back at Hattie to see if she was alright with being alone with the shrink and she gave me a thumbs up. I sighed silently in relief.

We went into the empty lobby and I led him over to the couch. We both sat down and I curled up by his side and let him pet my hair with his shaking hand to calm himself. I closed my eyes and didn't say anything. Just let him think and calm himself. He had his eyes closed and was still breathing oddly.

"Are you okay?" I asked gently.  
"I just don't like to think about it," he said quietly, covering his eyes with his hand like he had a headache, "It makes me feel like it's happening again. Like I can't breath."

I curled up even closer to him and began to stroke the back of his hand soothingly. "It's alright," I promised, reminded of how he had comforted me earlier when I'd been crying, "You're alright. It's alright. You're alright."

"I know," he mumbled, "But it doesn't change anything. No amount of therapy can change what's already happened."


	6. Second Chances Won't Leave You Alone

**When Second Chances Won't Leave You Alone**

"I want to go home."

I looked up at Ghost in surprise. We were in the waiting room at Dr. Valley's office. It was Sunday morning and we still had to endure a few more hours of therapy. The last two days had been long and aggravating, but I don't care to relay the details. Let's just say that it was overall a pain in the ass. However, I had learned that Dr. Valley wasn't quite as horrible as I had immediately thought. She really was trying to help, but it was hard to pack treatment that would usually take place over months into one weekend.

Still, we were all itching to go home. Just a few more hours and we'd be out of here. Hattie was currently inside of Dr. Valley's sound proof office, while Ghost and I lingered out in the waiting room. We had been pretty quiet. We really just didn't have much to say. Ghost wasn't really himself since the incident on Friday. He'd had his ups and downs this weekend. Back at the hotel he acted normal, but once he got into this building it was like something went off his brain and he just sort of shut down. I respected that, and didn't pester him. I was surprised that he had spoke but I was more surprised by what he had said and the way he had said it.

Comfortingly, I put my hand on his thigh. "We'll go home soon," I promised.  
"That's not what I meant," he said, "I want to have a home."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused and surprised at the same time.  
"I don't have a _real _home," he explained, "I don't have a real family."

"Jessamine, Hattie, Angel, Diego, Joseph, Ben, Cruz, me. We're your family," I told him.  
"I know," he said, "But it's not the same. I mean, it's not enough. I don't have a _real _family."

I couldn't believe he was talking about this. He barely opened up to Dr. Valley and now all of a sudden he was opening up to me? I wondered what had gotten into him.  
"Ghost, we're all your family. I mean, it sounds corny but it's true. A family isn't about genes or shared chromosomes. Anybody can be your family," I told him, "A family is a group of people who love and depend on one another. There the people you build your whole world off of."

He smiled ever so slightly. "As heartwarming as all that was, and it was. It's not what I mean. I know that I have everybody at HQ and I know that they're my family. But what I'm trying to say is that I miss my real human family. I mean, I never _really_ knew them . . . I feel like I missed my chance to have a real family. Because soon, I won't be able to ever be there son again. They'll grow older and I'll just stay this way forever."

I leaned against his side and began to stroke the back of his wrist comfortingly. "It's not too late Ghost," I told him, "You still have a chance at being in their lives."  
He shook his head. "No, no. There's a few major differences between me and the son they think they have. First off, I'm not blonde, I'm twice as pale, and I don't have green eyes. Not to mention that I'm not blind anymore."

"You can give it a shot," I encouraged.  
"No, no. It's stupid," he said, his walls going back up too quickly.

"Ghost," I said softly, "If that's how you really feel. Then it's not stupid."  
"Well maybe it's not how I really feel," he snapped defensively, even though it didn't make any sense. I was a little worried. Maybe reliving all these childhood traumas was taking a toll on him.

Hattie came out of the room then. "She wants to talk to you," she said.  
"Which one?" I asked.

"Both of you," she told us, sitting down. We both got up and walked in, sitting down in the two chairs in front of her.  
She looked at us for a moment. "I think you'll both be happy to know that I don't plan on going into any of your deep emotional problems right now," she said.

"Then what . . . " I trailed off.  
"Here," she said, handing Ghost a folded piece of paper on it.

He studied it for a moment, looking almost like he was concentrating. "It's an address," he said, seeming confused. "In New York."  
"Let me see that," I said and he handed it to me.

"It's in my town," I said, confused, "Why are you giving us this?"  
"I want you to go there," she told us.

"You want us to go all the way back to New York?" I demanded, "And come back?"  
"No. Just get your stuff and go there. You don't have to come back," she said.

"We get to go?" I asked, elated.  
"Yes," she said, "I'm going to make an appointment for you three to come back in a few months."

"I can deal with that," Ghost said, just as excited to get out of here.  
"Me too," I said, getting up.

"Just one last thing before you go," she said, "I only want you two to go inside this house. Drop Hattie off."  
"Oh . . .kay," I trailed off, unsure.

"Goodbye," she said as we walked out.

The next ten hours of my life were spent going back to the hotel and packing, checking out, and then driving _all _the way back to New York. Once we'd gotten to the town we had dropped Hattie off on the side of the road, per Dr. Valley's request, and she had ran back to HQ. Ghost and I had proceeded on our way to this mystery address.

"I wonder where we're going . . ." I said.  
"_I _wonder why she's sending us here," he mumbled.

We were on some back road, surrounded by trees with colorful leaves that had already began to start and fall away. We passed a few large houses and a few farms, but it wasn't exactly a residential place.  
"Me too," I agreed, "It's all very . . ."

"Sketchy?" he supplied.  
"Exactly," I agreed.

I checked the slip of paper and compared it to the street sign coming up. Ghost hadn't turned the blinker on to signal that he was going to turn. Not that it mattered since no one was behind us but still. It wasn't like Ghost to forget something like that.

"Ghost," I said, "Make a left up ahead."  
"Oh," was all he said and immediately turned the blinker on. So he hadn't forgotten to turn the blinker on. He just hadn't noticed the street sign. Which was equally as weird.

"The house is coming up I think," I said after we passed two large houses with the numbers 64 and 65 on their mailboxes. We drove for probably a quarter of a mile before coming upon another house. Well actually it was a driveway, the house was to far back to see through the trees.

"This is it," I said as we approached and Ghost turned. We drove up the driveway until the trees thinned out to reveal a large, beautiful house. It was a country styled Victorian house with columns on the grand front porch and a terrace just above it. There were grand windows on the house and a garden of hibernating flowers out front. Off to the side there was a girl with long blonde hair on a swing. She was facing away from us and didn't turn around at the sound of the car.

"The fuck . . . " I trailed off, looking around at the property. Why did Dr. Valley send us to some person's house?  
Ghost parked the car at the end of the driveway and killed the engine. We both put in a fresh pair of blue contacts before stepping out of the car, just in case they were humans.

"You recognize this place?" I asked as we closed our doors behind us.  
"No . . . " he mumbled, sniffing the air.

The girl on the swing turned around at the sound of our voices. I got just a glimpse of her and didn't really register who she was until she got off the swing and turned fully around. Long blonde hair, tall frame, cream colored skin, big green eyes. It was Bambi. My freshman friend that I had made this year. The fuck?

"Bambi?" I questioned as she approached us, confused.  
"Lottie?" she asked as she reached us, "What're you doing at my house?"

What the fuck was going on? Why had Dr. Valley sent us to Bambi's house? Did she even know that I knew Bambi? Was it just a coincidence that the two of us had already met? What was the significance of this place?

"I-I don't," I stuttered, unsure of what to say.  
"Whose this?" she asked, looking at Ghost, who looked like he had just seen, well, a ghost. He seemed shocked. I didn't have a clue why.

"Uh this is Ghost," I told her, "Remember the boyfriend I told you about."  
"Oh. I've heard a lot about you," she said.

He stared at her. "Constance?" he said quietly.  
"How do you know my name?" she asked warily, taking a step back.

"Because I'm your brother."


	7. Just Get Me Away From Here

**I Want To Disappear; Just Get Me Away From Here**

Brother? My body froze while my mind processed the shock. Bambi was Ghost's sister? But that would mean she was really Connie. The girl from the pictures I'd seen in Ghost's room. _That _was where I'd recognized her from. I'd stopped trying to figure it out a while back.

And if Bambi was Ghost's sister, that would mean that this was his family's house. Because I knew that his parents had gotten his sister back last year. So . . . that meant that Dr. Valley had sent us to see Ghost's family. How had she found them? How had she known that Ghost wanted to see them? Why hadn't she told us where she was sending us?

"Brother?" Bambi exclaimed, "No, no, no, no. That's not possible. I only have one brother . . . He's blind and he doesn't even live with us. I don't even remember him."  
"I know," Ghost said, "His name's Xander."

"H-how did you know that?" Bambi demanded, taking a step back.  
"Because that's my name," he said, "Because I'm your brother."

"M-mom. Mom!" she shouted, seeming shocked as she backed away from us, "Mom!"  
A woman ran outside, looking like a stepford housewife. Nice jeans and a white sweater underneath a red and white checkered apron. She looked about forty with long, golden blonde hair. Marilyn. Somehow she didn't seem like the kind of person who tried to drown her children.

"What is it Connie?" she asked, seeming alarmed.  
She pointed at us but didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry. Who are you?" Marilyn asked, stepping off of the porch.  
Ghost stared at his mother for a moment. "My name's Xander."

Marilyn's froze for a second, obviously hearing the name of her long lost son affected her. She tried to hide it though. She transformed her expression into a welcoming, smile.  
"Well it's nice to meet you Xander," she said, wiping flour off of her hands on her apron before holding her hand out to him.

He stared at it for a moment before finally shake it. The touch alone seemed to affect Marilyn. She must've felt something, because she inhaled sharply and quietly.  
"And who are you?" she wondered, looking at me.

"Oh I'm Lottie," I said, shaking her hand when she offered it to me.  
"Well it's nice to meet you both," she said, seeming a little dazed, "May I help you with something?"

"Can we come in?" Ghost asked, "There's something we need to tell you."  
"Is something wrong?" she asked nervously.

"That all depends on you," he said unhelpfully.  
"Well um . . . all right," she said, attempting friendliness but she seemed wary.

"But Mom," Bambi said, tugging at her mother's sleeve as she stared at Ghost. She obviously wasn't able to say what she knew.  
"Hush Connie," Marilyn brushed her off, her eyes on Ghost as well. She must've had some kind of suspicion.

She led us inside of the house. It was nice with a sophisticated, yet welcoming air. We followed her into a parlor like living room. It had large glass doors that showed a serene looking backyard. There was a light blue sofa and a rosy pink armchair. On the walls hung paintings of various outdoor scenes. Picture frames were clustered on the mantle of the fireplace.

"Sit, sit," she urged as she sat in the rosy pink arm chair. Ghost sat down on the blue sofa but neither Bambi or I did. Bambi had backed herself into a corner, as if trying to get as far away as possible from Ghost. I stayed standing.

"I'd rather stand," I said.  
"So . . . what is it you wanted to tell me?" she asked, directing her question at Ghost.

"Your son went missing last spring, correct?" he asked. I wasn't sure where he was going with this so I stayed silent.  
"Yes . . . His name was Xander too," she said, seeming even more distraught at remembering her son.

"Well . . . What would you say if I told you that I knew what happened to him?" he asked.  
"I would say tell me," she said immediately, "Tell me now."

"His foster mother Julie Marie and him left their house in the middle of the night," he told her, "They drove all the way to New York before they got into a car accident."  
Marilyn gasped and put her hand over her mouth. She looked terrified, shocked, and horrified all at once.

"The car flipped over and went into a lake," he continued in a monotone.  
By this time Marilyn had started sobbing. Tears were coming from her eyes in torrents. In her corner, Bambi was crying too.

"Oh God," Marilyn sobbed, "Oh God . . . My baby . . . Oh God . . ."  
Ghost stared at her expressionlessly for a minute, but he took a telltale shaky breath. I tried to give him a look to let him know that he should stop all this and just tell Marilyn who he was. He didn't see my look though. He was staring at the devastated Marilyn.

"Now what would you say if I told you he survived," he said, "That he was still alive."  
Marilyn lifted her head from her hands and her eyes met Ghost's. She looked like she was afraid to hope. "He's alive?" she chocked, "My baby's okay?"

Lower lip quivering like he was trying not to cry, he nodded. I myself was tearing up off to the side; and it wasn't even my family.  
"Oh thank God," she exclaimed, still crying, "Thank you God."

Ghost looked away from her for a minute, staring at the coffee table and taking a deep breath to compose himself. He looked back at Marilyn, completely expressionless. But if you looked in his eyes . . . If you knew what to look for, you could see that he wasn't as nonchalant as he was acting.

"Where is he?" she asked, "Can I see him?"  
"Yes," he said.

"When can I see him?" she asked.  
"Now," he said.

"Really? Where is he?" she asked excitedly.  
"In this room," he said, "Right in front of me."

She stared at him, eyes wide.  
"Xander," she squeaked out, "Y-you're Xander? You're my Xander?"

"That's what I was trying to tell you!" Bambi sobbed, "He says he's my brother!"  
He looked at her for a minute. "I am," he said.

"B-but you . . .You can't be. X-xander was completely blind," Marilyn reasoned.  
"I used to be blind," he told her, "Before the accident."

"But your eyes . . . Xander had green eyes," she went on.  
He shrugged. "I hit my head hard in the accident. I got my sight back, but I guess it altered my eye color."

"But your hair . . . Xander had blonde hair," she continued, still in denial.  
"I dyed it," he said, "So I could start over."

She stared at him for a long time, without saying anything. "It really is you, isn't it?" she said after a while, "You're not playing with me?"  
He nodded. "It really is me," he said, standing up.

She chocked on a sob before the tears started flowing in torrents again. "There was something about you," she said, "When I first saw you, I felt something. I knew there was something."

He just stared at her, wordlessly.  
She jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around him tightly. He didn't hug her back, just stayed completely still. "Oh God I missed you so much," she sobbed.

Ghost seemed like he was frozen in place. His expression didn't change, he didn't move, and he didn't say anything.  
"You don't know what it's like," she cried, "What it's like to have your child taken away from you . . . To know that it's your fault. To have someone else have to raise your only son for you . . . And then just when you think you're going to get him back . . . He goes missing and you lie awake every night, wondering if he's okay . . ."

Off to the side, Bambi was crying. I wiped away a stray tear that had fallen from my eye.  
"It's okay," Ghost said in a tight voice, "I'm here now."

She pulled back for a second to look him in the eye. "You're right," she said, "You are, aren't you?"  
She hugged him again, seeming as if she was never going to let go. She stroked his hair lovingly and murmured reassurances. I wasn't sure who she was trying to sooth; herself or him. He didn't seem like he needed comforting. In fact, he seemed perfectly fine. Too fine.

After a while, she let go. She looked like a raccoon with the black mascara running from her eyes. She wiped her eyes and smudged it further.  
"Connie," she sniffed, "Go call your father."

Connie nodded and disappeared. Marilyn was staring at Ghost, as if she thought he would disappear into thin air if she looked away.  
"I can't believe this is happening," she said, putting a hand to her forehead, "It feels like a dream . . . I know that it's really you, somehow. But this almost feels too good to be true."

Ghost stayed silent and so did I. I was really just an onlooker.

"I want you to know something Xander," she said, grabbing his hand, "I know I did a horrible thing to you all those years ago. And I've never regretted anything more in my _entire life. _What I did was so horridly wrong and it torments me every day of my life. But you have to understand, what happened was never your fault. I know you were just a baby then but I know what you must've been feeling since then; like it was your fault that I went crazy. But listen Xander, it wasn't your fault. It was my fault."

He wasn't looking at her. He was staring at something . . . nothing over her shoulder.  
"Xander," she sighed mournfully, "Baby, look at me. Please."

He made himself look her in the eye. His face was expressionless, like a statue.  
"Do you hate me?" she asked, her voice trembling, "Is that why you stayed away for all this time? Because you hate me? I deserve it . . . _You _deserve it. You deserve to hate me."

"I . . . I don't hate you," he managed after a slight pause. His tone was still unusually monotone.  
She stared at him for a moment, analyzing him. Her thumb rubbed circles over the back of Ghost's hand. "Xander," she sighed. Her voice adoring but with a slight edge of disappointment.

"There's one more thing I want you to know Xander," she said, "I know that I've been a horrible mother . . . But you have to understand that I love you. Alright? I've always loved you . . . No matter what you do, I'll always love you. You have to understand that. You're my son . . . My first born . . . My first baby. I'll always _always _love you. I know you might think that I didn't when I did . . . When I did that horrible thing. But I did love you, even then . . . I was sick then but I'm better now. And I love you."

I didn't understand how Ghost _wasn't _crying. _I _was crying.  
But finally, this seemed to get through to Ghost. "I need a minute," he said after a slight pause, his voice cracking.

He bolted for the front door and Marilyn stood there, frozen and shocked. Looking devastated.  
"He's not leaving," I told her, speaking up for the first time, "I promise. He'll be back . . . He just likes to deal with things alone."

She looked at me with lost green eyes.  
"I'm Lottie by the way. I'm Gh-Xander's girlfriend," I told her, "And I'll be right back. I promise. I just need to go check on him."

I rushed out the door and found him on the front porch, his hands gripping the railing hard. He was leaning over it slightly. I went over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.  
"I think I'm going to be sick," he said.

"I thought this was what you wanted," I said, confused.  
"It was . . . I mean it is . . . It's just all too much," he confessed.

I made soothing circles on his back. "Shhhhh . . . Everything's all right."

"No, no, no, no, no," he said, starting to panic, "I can't. I can't."  
"Shhhhhh," I soothed, putting my hands on the bars on either side of him,"Yes you can, yes you can."

"No, no I can't," he ranted, trying to twist around, "I can't. I can't stay here. Just-just get me away from here."  
He was facing me now, my arms trapping him since they were braced on the rail on either side of him. I pressed myself closer to him, sort of boxing him in. I left my head rest against his shoulder.

"Shhhhhhh," I said, "You can do this. You're not like me. You can take anything. You know how to deal."  
There was a long pause, probably about five minutes. The panic he'd been feeling must've faded. He smiled an uneasy smile. "I've had practice," he said, his voice a little shaky.

"You ready to go back in there?" I asked, smiling.  
"In a minute," he said, but I could tell that he was better.

I smiled and he turned around, going back to contemplating. I began to hum the theme to jeopardy as I waited. He laughed suddenly, shaking his head back and forth. He turned around and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him.

"You're impossible, you know that?" he asked.  
"I know," I sung, smirking.

"No I mean it. You're a real pain in the ass," he said with a smile much like his usual one.  
"I take pride in that," I said.

He rolled his eyes.  
"So . . .You ready to go back in there _now_?" I asked impatiently.

He sighed and touched a hand to his forehead. "Yeah sure okay."  
"Good . . . Cause I don't want poor Marilyn thinking we ran out on her," I said, "That would be really bad."

Not that things ever went _well _for us.


	8. Lie To Me

**Don't Lie To Me**

I sat on the ledge of my window that night, my bare feet against the windowsill. I leaned back against the side of the window, looking out at the darkness that hadn't been dark in a long time. My parents thought I was asleep but really, I just couldn't. Not because I'd had enough blood, but because there were too many thoughts tumbling around inside my head. I kept thinking about today, about meeting Ghost's parents.

It had been a very emotional reunion. Poor Ghost hadn't known what to do. He didn't like emotions, he hated them. As proof by his self cutting masochistic tendencies. For some reason I didn't know he couldn't process emotions correctly. It wasn't just bad emotions. When he was really happy he seemed like he couldn't handle that either. Sometimes I really wished I could know what happened to him to make him so . . . emotionally unstable. But I wouldn't dare ask.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even notice someone standing in my yard. Until a pebble me in the eye. It didn't hurt, but it sure as hell scared the fuck out of me. Covering my eye instinctual I looked down to see Ghost standing in my yard.

"Ghost!" I exclaimed in a voice loud enough for his vampire ears but not loud enough to wake my human family, "What the hell? You hit me in the fucking eye!"  
"Well maybe that wouldn't of happened if you were inside at night like a _normal _teenage girl instead of sitting on your windowsill," he said.

"Ghost, I'm a _vampire_," I said, "Why would I be normal?"  
"Touche," he agreed.

"Now why the fuck are you throwing rocks at me?" I demanded.  
"It's romantic in movies," he said with a shrug.

"Maybe if you realized that you're a romantic _fail_, I wouldn't have gotten hit in the eye with a rock," I muttered.  
"It's a pebble," he corrected.

"Whatever. You're still a romantic fail," I muttered.  
"Oh _really_, is that what I am?" he mocked and began throwing 'pebbles' at me. It didn't hurt, but it was certainly annoying.

"Ghost!" I squealed, "Ghost stop it!"  
"Ehhh . . . I don't really _feel _like it," he said, continuing to pelt me with pebbles.

"You asshole! Cut it out and get the fuck up here," I demanded.  
He threw one more pebble at me before jumping up to my window in one rapid vampire movement, where he stood on the windowsil next to me before sitting down with his legs dangling out the window.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.  
"You don't sound very excited to see me," he said, giving me a mock disappointed look.

I punched his shoulder. "Shut up," I muttered. "I'm just surprised to see you here. I thought you'd want to be alone. Stressful day, you know."  
"I'm better off with you and you know that," he said.

I thought of his masochistic tendencies and his self-cutting. He would be better off with me - where I could keep an eye on him. I knew that and I would've insisted upon him staying the night with me if I had thought he would agree. I assumed that he'd be so low and confused that he'd go off somewhere where nobody could find him, shake and sob and aggravate the scars on his wrists. It seemed like the very thing he would do. The fact that he wasn't . . . The fact that he was here was a good sign. I was proud of him.

"Yeah . . ." I mumbled, "I know that."  
It was quiet for a moment, while Ghost toyed with my curtains, fisting the silk and unfisting it over and over again.

"What made you decide to come here. . ." I asked in a hushed voice.  
"I learned something . . . disturbing today," he told me, "After I got back to HQ. And on top of everything that happened today . . . I figured I should come here before I had a nervous break down and killed all the villagers."

Now _that _concerned me; Ghost admitting that he on the verge of a breakdown. Maybe that therapy _had _worked. But I was also concerned by this 'disturbing news.' What could be more disturbing then what he'd gone through today? What could rattle him more then being reunited with the family he hadn't seen since in thirteen years without any warning or preparation?

"What do you mean by 'disturbing' news?" I asked cautiously.  
"When I got back to HQ . . . Jessamine was there . . . And she told me that . . . That Julie Marie had been spotted in Albany," he said, clearing his throat.

"We were up near Albany this morning . . ." I mumbled in a detached voice, shocked, "We stopped for gas up there."  
"We did . . . She was spotted at a bank about a block away . . . About an hour later. She wasn't alone," he mumbled.

"A bank?" I repeated, "What was she doing at a bank?"  
He shrugged. "I don't know," he said, knotting his hand tightly around my curtains and not letting go, "But then again, I never do with her anymore. . ."

"Don't worry about her Ghost," I insisted, "Don't think about her. She's nothing to us."  
But he wasn't looking at me, and I doubted that he was listening either. He was looking off into the darkness with a forlorn look in his eyes.

"Hey," I said, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look me in the eye, "Look at me."  
He pulled away from my grasp in a sharp movement, obviously not liking the enforced eye contact. I could understand why and honestly, I should have been a little smarter about grabbing him.

"Don't touch me," he snarled, baring his fangs at me. He was obviously feeling threatened by me becoming aggressive. Ever since the Julie Marie thing he'd been wary of women who tried to assert themselves over him in any way. And he always reacted badly when that happened. Even with Jessamine. Something she disliked but understood and tolerated, even when he snarled and snapped at her.

"Sorry," I apologized, meaning it as I put my hands up in a universal 'easy' gesture. I wasn't stupid enough to _actually _tell him to take it easy. He didn't like being patronized. He didn't say anything ut proceeded to pull harder on my curtains, causing them to tear. I did't say anything in response because, really, I'd rather he break my curtains then break his own skin.

"You said she wasn't alone," I said after a pause, "Who was she with?"  
"A vampire. Nobody you know . . ." he said.

I thought about the way he was said _'nobody _you_ know.' _Instead of _'nobody _we _know.' _I looked at him for a long moment, trying to search for anything suspicious in his eyes. They were guarded, but when weren't they now a days? He was suspicious of everyone, everything. Always suspicious that someone or another was in league with Julie Marie. He knew I wasn't, but that didn't keep him from being paranoid about people watching us - Julie Marie's people.

"Do _you _know them?" I asked cautiously.  
"A little," he said, "She's not important."

_She. _I didn't like the sound of that. Just plain old jealousy flaring up. Of course, Ghost wasn't the only one who'd been affected by the Julie Marie ordeal. Aside from the death phobia thing, I was now quite possessive of Ghost. I tried to hide it - because I knew he wouldn't react well to that kind of behavior in me. But having him _stolen _from me by that witch Julie Marie made me eager to skin any woman who dared to try and take my Ghost away from me.

"Where do you know her from?" I asked.  
"Nowhere," he said automatically, looking at me with eyes that told me that I'd better shut up.

"Who is she?" I asked.  
He looked at me with those eyes. _If looks could kill, _came to mind. That could apply to Ghost, always. Not only was his physical beauty enough to floor anybody, but his glares were powerful enough to paralyze. But the look he gave me right then didn't just tell me that he was mad but it also told me that he was about to lie to me.

"She's no one."

* * *

**I know, I know, I know. I haven't updated in FOREVER. I totally just forgot about this story. When the inspiration isn't there, it's easy to forget. But then I realized this last chapter had 29 reviews and suddenly, the inspiration returned. Hallelujah! Kate is back. **


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